


Sleeping Over - Heliot

by dracothelittlepuff



Series: draco's Heliot [2]
Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24074851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracothelittlepuff/pseuds/dracothelittlepuff
Summary: The power has gone out and it's late at night. The dinner party guests are sleeping over.
Relationships: Ernest Hemingway/George Eliot, HG Wells/Lenore, Heliot, Hemingway/Eliot, Wellenore
Series: draco's Heliot [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817368
Kudos: 24





	Sleeping Over - Heliot

**Author's Note:**

> No one really knows Mary Ann is a woman other than Hemingway and Lenore, and neither know about her real name or anything.

"I can bunk with Eliot," Hemingway offered. "We two guys should be fine."

"Okay, sure," Edgar said distractedly, turning to Charlotte to assure her yet again that, yes, these are not the cheap mattresses and sure, she could have a room to herself.

Hemingway put his arm around Mary Ann's shoulders and guided her out of the study. In the hallway, Mary Ann shrugged him off. "You creep, I'm not sleeping with you."

He shrugged. "Have a nice night staying awake then. Or... did you mean sleeping with me?" He winked and Mary Ann rolled her eyes.

"I mean, really. Would you rather stay with the scary Russian prisoner or the weirdo inventor? Or perhaps the grand raven fetishist himself? Besides, my plan isn't to do anything to - or with - you. I just..." he shrugged. "I thought you'd appreciate some company."

Mary Ann quirked an eyebrow. "You're scared of Dostoevsky? Maybe I should stay with him..."

"No! There's a difference between scary-freaky and being scared," Ernest said quickly, a small frown on his face.

"Relax, I'm just teasing," Mary Ann grinned. "But you should know if you try anything..."

"I promise I won't do anything... without your consent," Hemingway smirked.

"You wish."

They got to the door of a bedroom and Mary Ann opened it and then slammed the door closed again, her face pink.

"What?" Ernest asked.

"Oh god..." Mary Ann began to laugh. The door opened and a very embarrassed HG hurried down the hall with a muttered apology. Seconds later, Lenore came out of the room. She looked from Ernest to Mary Ann and then said, "Oh, shut up," and followed HG down the hall. 

The two burst out laughing and went down the hall to find the next available room.

Hemingway opened a door at the very end of the hall by the back staircase, looked around to make sure no one was already there, and then bowed for Mary Ann to go in. Still giggly, she went inside.

Ernest closed the door behind him and then flopped onto the bed, kicking off his shoes.

Mary Ann scrunched up her face at him disapprovingly but didn't say anything. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Ernest called. Annabel opened the door. "Hi, gentlemen. Um. If you want any clean nightshirts, I'm handing some out. And Lenore said if anyone needs anything, just, uh, ask her or Edgar."

"Thanks," Mary Ann smiled gratefully. Ernest jumped up and took a nightshirt from the few that she was holding, winking. "Thanks, sweetheart." Annabel smiled awkwardly and closed the door again.

"Good god, could you not flirt with every woman you come across?" Mary Ann said.

"I dunno," Ernest grinned mischievously. "Could I?"

Mary Ann shook her head and then turned her back quickly when Ernest began unbuttoning his shirt.

He smiled to himself. "Can't bear to see a little skin, can ya, Eliot?" He called to her.

She shook her head. "Shut up. It's different."

"Is it?"

"You know it is. Just... don't tell the others."

"That you're no gentleman?"

"That's hardly fair."

"You're one of the loveliest ladies I've ever met."

Mary Ann felt her face heat up. "You're doing the thing again."

"Right. Sorry." To the woman's surprise, he did sound genuinely sorry. "Alright, I'm in bed and all covered up, you can turn around."

Mary Ann did, but just then there was another knock.

She went to answer the door - it was Lenore.

"Hello, dear. Are you alright in here? With... him?" Lenore asked sympathetically.

"I am, thank you."

"I have a nightdress if you would prefer that to wear."

Mary Ann was taken aback and touched. She did prefer more feminine clothes. "Thank you." She took it from her.

"No problem. Do you need anything else?" Lenore asked meaningfully with a glance to Ernest. Her voice dropped. "Like for your period."

Mary Ann laughed lightly. "I'm alright, thank you. And he knows, but no one else."

"If you do end up needing anything, there's a box in the washroom on this floor under the sink," Lenore said with a decisive nod.

Mary Ann grinned, looking down at the nightdress, and then threw her arms around the ghost. She was half expecting to fall through her, but Lenore stood there steady.

"Thank you," Mary Ann murmured.

"Of course, dear," she smiled into the woman's hair. She raised her voice threateningly when she let go of her. "And if Hemingway does anything to you, I'll personally see him taken into account for his actions."

"Not to worry, Madame, I'll see fit that George here is a-okay," Ernest replied.

Mary Ann smiled. "I'll be alright. Thank you."

"Of course. If you need anything, just call."

Mary Ann closed the door after bidding her goodnight and moved back to the foot of the bed, taking off her jacket and beginning to unbutton her shirt. She paused, realizing Ernest was still looking at her.

"Jesus, just- take your eyes off me for one second, would you?"

Ernest grabbed a book from the side table. "Not to worry." He busied himself in the pages while Mary Ann turned her back and stripped down.

"Hey, what is your actual name? I doubt your parents saw you as a baby and said, 'What a sweet girl, let's name her George Eliot'. I don't really know much about you for real."

"If you must know, my name is Mary Ann Evans. And I'm 24 years old."

"Huh."

"What?"

"I didn't think you'd share your age so readily."

"I'm not old," Mary Ann retorted.

"I know, it's just- a thing, you know?"

"I guess."

"Well, my name is Ernest Hemingway. I'm 26."

Mary Ann paused. "Ernest? Do you mind if I call you Ernest?"

"If you don't mind me calling you Mary Ann."

"Can you help with these buttons? I can't quite reach them."

Ernest looked up. "Of course." He put the book down and slipped out of bed.

His eyes travelled down the smooth plane of her back and her hair, down for once. He carefully did up the buttons. She flinched away when his finger accidentally brushed her back but he drew his hands away and she stilled. "Sorry."

"Not at all." Ernest hadn't meant for his voice to come out like that, low and rough around the edges. He saw Mary Ann's breath catch.

He pushed her hair gently over one of her shoulders to do up the last couple of buttons. Her bare skin was smooth and soft.

He did the last button up and smoothed down the fabric over her shoulders. She didn't do anything to move away - in fact, she seemed to almost tilt back against him. Ernest took half a step forwards.

"You're pretty like this."

"Like what?" Mary Ann's voice was cautious.

"Like... a woman. Like wearing something more like a dress."

"Oh."

Ernest couldn't seem to stop talking. "And your hair. It's like... I don't know. Dark caramel in this warm light. You should wear it down more often. I mean. If you want."

"Mhm."

They stood there for a long moment. Mary Ann took half a step away and turned to him. "Ernest... I, uh, I can't... do this."

"Do what?" He murmured with his eyes on her bare shoulders, her waterfall of smooth hair. Her soft lips. Anywhere but her own searching eyes.

"This. Here. With you."

"I never said you had to."

"You didn't need to say."

"I didn't..."

"I know. But I can't." There was something more, something almost hidden in her voice. "But you want to?" Ernest finally looked in her eyes.

"Yeah."

"Then why not?" He whispered. Not to pressure her, just out of genuine curiosity.

"I-I'm scared..."

"Of me?"

"Of what could happen."

"Of me hurting you."

"Among other things."

"Mary Ann. I would never..."

"You- god. You don't know what I'm talking about. I can't..."

Ernest took her hands, slid his own up her forearms. "Are you..."

"I have a bad history with this shit. And... I just..." Mary Ann looked like she would cry. "I can't."

"I'm... I'm so sorry."

Mary Ann closed her eyes. "Being George... it's... it's scary sometimes. ... I've seen how women react to me. To just a man, just being friendly, nothing flirtatious. They're scared of what I could do to them."

"Mary Ann, I'm sorry."

She opened her eyes, filled with tears. "Not your fault, I suppose."

"I know. I'm still sorry."

Mary Ann was suddenly in his arms, sobbing into his shoulder. He patted her back. "Hey, hey. It's okay."

"Th-Thanks. Jesus, I'm a wreck," she half laughed, half cried.

"You're okay. It's okay," Ernest said. He led her to sit down on the edge of the bed.

She leaned into his shoulder, wiping at her eyes. "Y-You know, you're a whole l-lot nicer than I thought you'd b-be," she said softly, her voice still shaking. "Still not super nice, but you know." They both laughed.

He put his arm around her. "I may be an asshole, a drunk, a flirt. But I know boundaries. I know consent. I may test rules but I wouldn't dare break them - especially yours."

"And what exactly are my rules?" Mary Ann asked quietly.

"I'm not quite sure, yet."

"One is don't trust assholes, drunks, or flirts." She laughed. "Guess I fucked that one up."

"You trust me?"

"Should I not?"

"No, of course."

"I want to go to bed now."

"Okay."

Mary Ann slipped under the covers while Ernest went around the room turning the lights off. He was about to turn off the last one, one in the corner on a desk, but Mary Ann said, "Wait. Can we just. Keep that on?"

"For sure." Ernest went back to bed and smoothed down the blankets and then lay on top of them on his back. Mary Ann moved away from him a little, facing him on her side. "Good night."

"Good night, Mary Ann." They both waited a while, at least ten minutes. Neither fell asleep. "Ernest?"

"Yep."

"...Can I be honest?"

"Of course." He tilted his head over to look at her.

"I want to do... something."

"But you're worried."

"Scared. Of you."

"Of me?" Ernest echoed, dumbfounded.

"You know I'm a woman. We're sleeping in the same bed. And you're... well, a man. That puts you above me."

"Mary Ann. I'm not above you," Ernest scoffed.

"How?"

"Maybe I'm scared of hurting you." Ernest turned onto his side to face her.

She reached out a gentle, soft hand and stroked her thumb along his cheekbone. "You're so..." She never finished her sentence. Instead, she sat up from under the blankets and moved closer to him and then bent down to kiss him.

Ernest broke away and sat up. He leaned in and kissed her softly but ultimately pulled away. "We shouldn't."

Mary Ann dropped her hands from his shoulders. "I know."

Ernest lay back down and the woman surprised him by curling against his side, her head on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair soothingly until Mary Ann fell asleep and finally he drifted off.


End file.
